


Lost Memories for a Lost Friend

by AceandShadow



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Gen, Gift Giving, Hope, Hurt/Comfort, Memories, Memory Loss, Optimism, The Great Disaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:48:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22356673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceandShadow/pseuds/AceandShadow
Summary: Ikora has a gift made for Eris by Banshee. Eris needs to go and collect it, only it seems Banshee can't remember who she is or why she doesn't have a Ghost.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	Lost Memories for a Lost Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Based prior to The Taken King expansion, D1

Eris rarely abandoned her post by the stairs to the Underwatch, but on this occasion, she needed to. Despite what she would tell you, she was not a confident person. Not anymore, anyway. Her posture would say otherwise as she walked, but when she was stood by her stands, she would hunch over. Most Guardians would discard her as delusional which she deemed unfair, but she would let it roll off her like water on a duck’s back and pass it off as a lack of understanding, gained only by experience – something she would hope would never come around again.

A rare sight was to see Eris emerge from her space and onto the upper side of the Tower. She didn’t go far, however. She only needed to see the gunsmith – Banshee-44.

Not too long after Eris had arrived back at the Tower, Lightless, Ikora had taken her under her wing after taking pity on her ill-fated attempt at revenge on everything that had happened during the Great Disaster – in Cayde’s words; “When Crota woke up cranky and slapped around more Guardians than I could count,” something Eris would rather not be reminded of – and had a bespoke weapon made for her in the hopes of lifting her spirits up. However; Banshee had taken his time with the weapon and Eris was called to collect it during a time that Ikora was in a meeting with The Speaker.

Hesitantly, she approached Banshee and cleared her throat, unsure of how to start a conversation.

Banshee looked up from his weapon parts, puzzled.

They stared at each other for a while, both unsure of what to say or do.

Eventually, Banshee shuffled awkwardly where he stood, and his face lights lit up as he opened his mouth to speak. He was very quiet to begin with.

“What do you need?” he asked, looking around.

Eris took a moment before she spoke. “Uh, Ikora said you had something for me?” She tapped her toes on the floor as she asked the gunsmith about her weapon.

Banshee looked confused. “Uh. Weapon…? Who are you, again?”

Eris sighed. “Eris. Eris Morn?” She wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince at this point.

“Eris Morn…Eris Morn…” Banshee said to himself as he rummaged around in the boxes under his table.

After a few moments, he lost track of what he was looking for and scratched the back of his head – a habit that he never grew out of when he became an Exo many cycles ago.

“Banshee?” Eris hoped to get his attention and remind him of what he was trying to do.

“Yeah?” he asked, innocently.

“Uh, you have a weapon for me?”

“Name?”

Eris dropped her shoulders, disappointed, but unsurprised and repeated her name.

“Auto rifle, yes?” Banshee asked, rummaging around in his boxes again.

Eris had no idea what Ikora had made for her, but she was glad that someone cared enough not to just ignore her as they walked past, shaking their heads at her warnings.

She picked up the rifle as Banshee put it on the table in front of her and she admired his handiwork, impressed by the personalised grip and barrel.

All the while Eris studied her new weapon, Banshee studied Eris. Something was odd about her. She _looked_ familiar. She _sounded_ familiar. But he could not work it out. He looked around at the other Guardians wandering the Tower. A few of them had their Ghosts bobbing alongside them.

Then it clicked.

“Where is your Ghost?” he asked.

Eris’ head shot up and she looked at Banshee with a blank expression until his question sank in like a slow, sharp knife in her side, twisting as it pressed into her, the question resounding in her mind. She was shocked, but she couldn’t feel anything.

“Banshee?” she asked, trying to hide the upset in her voice. “You don’t…remember?”

“Remember what?”

Eris couldn’t feel anything. She didn’t feel upset that he couldn’t remember. She didn’t feel despair at his lack of consideration. She didn’t feel angry at her lack of importance to him all because she knew too well what tendencies Exos can have.

After a while, hurt set in and Eris looked down at her weapon. Banshee had made this for her – on the orders of Ikora, maybe – but he wasn’t even sure who she was.

Did he know at the time the order was made? Did he remember the day before? She was too hurt to think.

“Crota? The Great Disaster? Eriana-3? Vell Tarlowe? What about Toland? No one could possibly forget him!” she cried, clutching at her new weapon without realising. “Do you remember the day that _thousands_ of Guardians lost their lives? Their Ghosts?” Eris became exasperated.

“Were you one of them?” Banshee asked, unsure of what Eris was trying to say.

If she thought she had tears left to shed, Eris would have cried. She never wanted to be remembered as a survivor of the Hellmouth or some unsung hero, but she had at least hoped her friends would be remembered.

“No…” she whispered. “Not that day…”

“Oh,” Banshee said plainly, looking at the floor, “is he hiding?”

Eris looked him straight in the eyes, hoping he could read her as she pleaded with her face, praying it would give him some indication that she was not playing around. When there was no sign of progress, she sighed and stood back a bit.

“Oh, Banshee…I wish he was hiding. At least then, there would be some chance he would be found…”

Banshee perked up.

“Maybe you should speak to Michah-10. He is very good at helping Ghosts.” If he could smile, he would have done.

Eris couldn’t look at him anymore. “He’s gone, Banshee. There’s no helping him.” Her voice got quieter, but it became harsher the more she spoke.

The silence hung in the air like a thick fog where mixed messages were received. Eris began to feel like she was wasting her time. Banshee’s number said more than he, himself, would ever say. _44…_ So many reboots say that Banshee had his fair share of experiences and, if he has been around as long as they say he has, it was probably better his memory wasn’t as it used to be. He would be a completely different person and possibly not as productive or as useful to the Vanguard and then where would he have ended up?

All of this reminded her of why she would rarely leave her post by the stairs. So many people gave her funny looks – a Lightless Guardian with three eyes, shrouded in darkness, calling out to all whom could hear. At least she felt a small sense of security standing across the hall from Ikora, even if Shaxx got a bit loud from time to time, but she was used to all that by now. It beat the sound of the Hive, the Deathsingers and…Omnigul…the whispers…

Eris would take Shaxx over that any day.

“Did you need something?” Banshee asked, forgetting why she was there…again.

Suddenly, Eris had realised that she didn’t need Banshee to remember what happened to her or her Ghost. In fact, she envied him – she wished she could forget what happened to her, as well.

She looked down at her new weapon once more. Her guard dropped for the first time in weeks. She admired it even more, realising that, of all the orders that Banshee got everyday for new weapons and from all these different Guardians, she was glad that he remembered to make hers and he made it so well.

Eris didn’t feel much, anymore, but she would treasure this rifle and trust it with everything she could give and not just because Ikora had it made for her.

“No,” she replied, softly, lowering the harshness of her voice, “No, I think I’m good for now.”

Banshee looked satisfied.

“Remember to bring it back to have it tuned up regularly,” he said as he turned to another project that he had laid out on a table behind him. “I won’t remember to remind you,” he added, “memory ain’t as good as it used to be, y’know.”

“I know,” she said, turning to walk away.

As she did so, she could still hear Banshee mumbling away to himself as he worked. From the tone, he had forgotten what he was doing and began talking to himself about The Great Disaster.

“Eris Morn…Eris Morn…” she could make out between rustlings of boxes and weapon parts as Banshee mumbled to himself.

She was okay with him not remembering. It was one less person to give her strange looks.

On the grip of her rifle, Eris noticed a small inscription on the base;

_‘Crota’s Bane’_

When questioned, Ikora knew nothing about it. She said that she thought putting something like that on a gift seemed like a permanent reminder of why she was in the state she was in the first place.

Eris didn’t mind. She allowed herself a little smile as she looked upon the inscription with a small sense of pride.

Banshee knew somewhere in the back of his mind and that was good enough for her.


End file.
